


Good Guys Wearing Black Hats

by fabfemmeboy



Series: Sincere Baked Goods [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 18:21:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabfemmeboy/pseuds/fabfemmeboy
Summary: Considering how relatively easy his coming-out had been, and the fact that everyone had known for like a decade before he ever told them, he wasn't sure why his being gay had to cause so many problems.After all, he had long expected sex with a guy might ruin things, but he didn't expect the "things" in question to be a Volvo or a plate glass window and he didn't think there would be arrest records involved.





	Good Guys Wearing Black Hats

Kurt sat nervously at the cafeteria table. He wished he had his bag - clutching the leather strap was a bit of a nervous habit, a reflex he found comforting - but they had taken it before they allowed him in to the visitation room. Apparently merely confiscating his moisturizer and ballpoint pens wouldn't suffice because he was such a criminal mastermind that he could have sewn a file into the lining of the bag.  
  
Please. It was Prada. Like he would ever commit such a heinous crime.  
  
Seated at an angle so he could cross his legs, his foot tapped nervously as he looked around. This was not the safest place for him to be, he knew that. For one thing, while there were guards posted about every twenty feet around the edge of the room, who was to say the guards would protect him? Though most of the people visiting at the same time did appear to be mothers. A couple girlfriends, maybe, and guy who was either an older lover or a big brother.  
  
The security guard who had checked him in had made very clear that there was to be No Touching. No hugs, no handshakes, no patting on the back, no slipping drugs into anyone's pockets-  
  
Yes, the guy had said that. Kurt got the feeling this particular officer had what passed for a sense of humour around here. When he had replied "I don't think that'll be a problem," to the no hugging mandate, the guard just kind of chuckled and told him it was probably for the best.  
  
The buzzer sounded, which he guessed from the movies meant a door was unlocking, and the door across the room from where Kurt had entered swung open. A burly officer who looked like he took no crap read off names and table numbers. As he read each name, a boy in an oversized white tshirt and blue pocketless pants appeared from what Kurt was certain had to be a nearly-endless hallway and walked to where he was directed; only after the boy was seated was the next name read.  
  
It took forever. By the time they got to the P's, Kurt swore he'd started to doze off.  
  
"Puckerman - 8A!"  
  
Kurt's eyes snapped open in time to see Puck enter through the open door. His hair was growing out a little, which Kurt found creepy-looking - he would have even preferred the mohawk again to this, and he associated the mohawk with pre-glee Puck. He wasn't sure how it was already covering his head in a dark frizzy fuzz - it had been less than a week. Kurt looked for any signs of...something he couldn't really put his finger on, but he felt like he would know it when he saw it. Angst, maybe? Anger? Pain?  
  
Puck looked bored. Like he was over all this. Not all that different than at school, really.  
  
He strutted over towards the table, then stopped cold as he finally bothered to look to see who was paying him a visit. Kurt half expected to be told to get the fuck out, considering how they'd left things. Puck had tried to be helpful that night, Kurt knew that, he'd been...trying to make him feel better, and instead Kurt had freaked out and started crying and told the guy to get out. Somehow between that and school on Monday, Puck had ended up in juvie. He didn't think it was a stretch to blame himself at least in part.  
  
Finn was right - he really did only think of himself.   
  
"Figured you'd be Quinn," Puck said as he sat across from Kurt.  
  
Kurt didn't have the heart to tell him that they'd both had their potential dates snatched from under them...by each other. "Should I not be here?" he asked.  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"I would've brought cupcakes but thought it might be a bad idea," he tried to joke. Puck gave him a look that also clearly said 'whatever' and didn't say anything. After an awkward silence, he ventured, "I'm sorry about the other night."  
  
"You came here to tell me that?"  
  
For all the things he could say about Noah Puckerman, the only one that came to mind was that Puck was the lone guy who could rival him in the sarcastic eyebrow department.  
  
But the unspoken corollary to Puck's question was something Kurt didn't have a good answer for. What had possessed him to skip a Top Model marathon on WE to sit in a room of juvenile delinquents? Was it really just about an apology? Was he subconsciously hoping to recreate a porno of some kind? Why the hell was he there?  
  
He honestly had no idea.  
  
"How's your dad?" Puck asked.  
  
"Okay. He's home now," Kurt offered, but that wasn't at all the whole story. He was home, yes, but he was cranky and depressed and not at all the father Kurt remembered. He seemed to be irritated by everything about Kurt, everything he did, everything he  _was_. He didn't want to think about what his father would say if he ever found out-   
  
He wished at times like this he had someone to talk to who didn't go to his school. Things like this, he would ordinarily go to Mercedes, but considering she had sort-of dated Puck and the girl couldn't keep her mouth shut to save her life, it would no doubt end with everyone at school knowing. Talk about social suicide, even if Puck claimed he was so badass he could get away with anything up to and including wearing a dress to school.  
  
Wearing a dress to school, maybe he could get away with. He might have enough social clout to manage a duet without having to change schools, unlike Sam. But even Puck couldn't get away with screwing the resident queer, even if it was made very clear to everyone it was only a mercy-fuck.  
  
Puck didn't usually pay attention to how people looked like they felt, not unless it was going to get him something - like pretending to care about what Rachel was saying if he got to make out with her. But that didn't mean he was as clueless about it as people thought sometimes. Kurt didn't look any more relieved than he had over the weekend. "Damage and crap," he recalled quietly.  
  
"Yes," Kurt replied crisply.  
  
"Sorry," he offered, then added, "Should I bake him something, too?"  
  
"Why? So you can get him all-" Kurt realized what he was about to say and dropped his voice to a quiet, almost hissing response. "So you can get him high and then-"  
  
"I didn't make you do shit," Puck replied, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest. It was like Quinn acting like he took advantage of her because when she asked him for booze, he gave what he had - crappy sweet wine coolers, but she liked fruity drinks anyway. She wasn't drunk enough to not know what she was doing, and she was certainly demanding enough in wanting him to have sex with her. Who was he to say no? Now Kurt was going to make it out like he got him high and forced himself on him? Please - the guy had practically begged him. Maybe not with words, but the fucking himself on Puck's fingers thing totally counted.  
  
Kurt stopped. "...That's not what I meant," he replied sincerely. "You didn't. I know that."  
  
Puck raised an eyebrow but didn't bother to ask what Kurt had meant, then, even though he wondered.   
  
Kurt considered a moment, then continued. "I'm worried I made you do things you didn't want-"  
  
"Hey, I do what I want."  
  
"Not to question your reputation as the toughest guy around or anything, but sometimes - and I can't believe I'm going to say this - you can be a halfway decent guy. Don't get me wrong; you're a jerk. You're offensive, and insensitive, and you got your best friend's girlfriend pregnant, and-"  
  
"Are you done yet?" Puck asked, annoyed.  
  
"Not remotely. A list of your transgressions could fill the Library of Congress. But on occasion you're not nearly as much of an ass as you want people to think you are, especially when someone's part of your team, be it football...or glee." Puck scowled and looked away, which let Kurt know he was definitely onto something. "When you saw me upset, your hedonistic coping mechanisms kicked in. I shouldn't have coerced you into- I know that I have a hard time backing off, so I'm sorry-"  
  
Puck wasn't sure what the hell happened to Kurt in the last week, but this was just weird. He didn't have the energy for weird. The beds here sucked and he wasn't allowed to take naps even when he was  _really_  bored. "What's your deal?" he asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean you're the one who burst out crying after I fucked you, and now you're acting like you raped me or something. What the hell?"  
  
Puck didn't say it nearly as quietly as Kurt would have expected. He looked around nervously, expecting someone to start in on something any second, but no one looked up. To be fair, he expected Puck would never speak of the entire thing again and would revert to his dumpster-tossing self as soon as he got out...if ever he got out, Kurt supposed.   
  
"There's a new kid in the club - Sam Evans?"  
  
"The guy who punked out and didn't show up for his audition 'cause he was scared of Beiste?"  
  
"Apparently," Kurt confirmed. Artie had said so, at least.  
  
"Okay. He'll be pretty good if he sticks around this time."  
  
"He seems talented." And cute, Kurt added in his mind. "Our assignment for the week was duets, and I suggested to Sam that we do one together. Finn told me I was killing his chances of ever fitting in at school and said that the way I pursued him last year made him..."  _Paranoid to the point of lashing out._  "...uncomfortable."  
  
"So?" Puck asked. There was little he liked hearing about less than how everyone who slept with him would rather be fucking Finn. The guy was about as sexually appealing as a stuffed teddy bear, entirely inexperienced, and had a problem only Puck knew about. But everyone - the girls he screwed, and Kurt too - were freaking in love with him for no good reason.  
  
"So I was concerned I had put you in a similar position."  
  
"Like I said, I do what I want," Puck replied disinterestedly.  
  
"Apparently I come on too strong and don't know when to stop. I believe his exact words were 'no means no.' And while you didn't say no, neither did he, so I-"  
  
"Are you asking if you raped me? Do you remember whose dick was where?"  
  
Kurt was fairly certain that wasn't the sole indicator he needed to be worried about. "Puck...forgive me for stating the obvious, but...you're straight."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Very straight."  
  
"Damn right."  
  
"You're not gay."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And...I'm a guy?" Maybe that was the reason Puck had been into him, Kurt decided. Maybe Puck had spent the whole time picturing him as a flat-chested girl. He was only slightly flatter than Rachel anyway, right? ...Except for the part where Puck commented on how he was too big to suck, but that still could have been a "nice" way of getting out of it.  
  
"I noticed," Puck replied dryly. "I'm not Finn - I'm kind of halfway observant sometimes."  
  
While Kurt found the retort amusing in its truth, he wasn't sure how to take it. "Then why are you still speaking to me?" he asked finally.   
  
"You showed up," Puck shrugged.  
  
"You could've told me to leave."  
  
"You could've told me to leave," Puck replied. "You didn't." Neither of them thought for a second he was talking about their current location.   
  
That was to say, Kurt hadn't until afterward. It wasn't the first time he'd been thrown out immediately after sex, either. He was kind of getting used to climbing out windows when he heard a car in the driveway and sneaking past Santana's mom while she watched her crappy telenovelas. It wasn't that he was sick of being used for sex, it was that he was kinda sick of people not wanting anything to do with him in the light of day.  
  
People wanted him for sex - that was fine by him. He liked sex, he especially liked sex with a lot of different women (and with Kurt, now, apparently), and he was generally of the theory that if something felt good, you should do it. The people he was screwing were cool with that - they knew what they were getting into. Some of them even sought it out 'cause he was that good. But as soon as they got what they wanted, they always seemed to freak out that they wanted it in the first place and kick him to the curb. He wasn't saying he wanted to be invited to stay the night or anything, and he certainly didn't want to do the whole dating thing - not with anyone but maybe Quinn, if she asked - but being treated like a person, like a  _man_ , instead of like a dick that happened to be in the right place at the right time?   
  
No one wanted to be seen with him. Santana broke up with him over his credit score but still called him for booty calls whenever she was horny on a Friday night. She'd hold hands with freakin' Brittany everywhere she went, but she wouldn't be seen with him unless she'd just finished trying to kick another girl's ass for getting with him even though she was sleeping with half the football team. He figured after Finn broke up with Quinn, he'd pick up where they should've left off, y'know, maybe she'd actually date him even if she wasn't putting out while she was pregnant, but she told him she needed to be on her own. They were living in the same house and he couldn't get to first base - how wrong was that? And Rachel...don't get get him started. She only wanted to be seen with him when she wanted to make another guy jealous - Jesse...Finn...And he didn't even get to touch her boobs. Talk about lame.  
  
The truth was, even if he didn't want a lot of the stupid-ass dating shit, girls seemed to want it with everyone but him. They wanted him for one thing and one thing only and then he got shoved into their closet when their real boyfriend walked in.  
  
So what if he didn't really want to date Kurt? Not like Kurt would be seen with him in public anyway. He saw how the kid's eyes kept darting around, like he thought people were staring at them. Kurt was willing to be fucked - hell, he  _begged_  - but didn't want anyone to notice he was visiting?  
  
"I know that even under the best of circumstances, nothing would have come of it," Kurt stated. His words were clipped precisely as though he was trying to concentrate on his pronunciation instead of on the words themselves. "Under the best of circumstances we would have never spoken of it again, and under the worst...let's just say I would need to be finding more appropriate raincoats for the inevitable onslaught of dumpster-tosses and slushie facials."  
  
"I told you, I don't do that anymore."  
  
"No, you just drive your mother's car into convenience stores to steal the ATM," Kurt replied dryly. When Puck just shrugged, Kurt shook his head and continued. "I've been going over and over this, and it had to be right after you left, right? After...and I just don't understand, because it's the antithesis of everything else you'd done. You're not self-destructive, and you're pretty good about not doing something unless you know you can either avoid getting caught or not have anyone care if they see you. The lone exception were the Vocal Adrenaline Range Rovers, and that were revenge. So what was this?"  
  
To be honest, Puck didn't have a good answer for that. He hadn't had one when his mother demanded to know, he hadn't had one for the judge, and he sure as hell didn't have one for Kurt.  
  
It wasn't revenge, he knew that much. It wasn't like he was so hurt by Kurt's rejection that he was trying to off himself or something. And he didn't need to try and get attention - he had attention. The whole fucking school knew who he was and that he was a badass.  
  
This is what badasses did, right? The other guys in here were certainly badass - or thought they were- even if most of them were just complete morons. What kind of dumbass stole a cop car? Or sold drugs to the principal?   
  
The same kind who drove through the front of a convenience store and stole the ATM, he guessed. He probably didn't have room to talk.  
  
"Why do you like Finn so damn much anyway?" Puck asked with a scowl.   
  
"E-Excuse me?" Kurt's attempt not to sound shocked was belied by the way his voice quivered, as though he'd been caught.  
  
"He's not hot - not like I'm into dudes or whatever, but he's not a really good-looking guy, he's awkward as shit, he's - and I can say this 'cause he's practically my brother - dumb as a box of rocks. What the hell does everyone see in him? Why is he the golden boy and I'm-"  
  
"In juvenile hall?" Kurt replied dryly.   
  
"Yeah. Everyone sticks up for him like he's something special." The 'not like I care' tone had changed into something more annoyed, but Puck didn't mind as long as he kept it on the pissed side of things instead of whiney. He wasn't some little bitch whining about his best friend getting all the girls. But enough was fucking enough already.  
  
"He is," Kurt said, then hesitated and corrected, "He was. I thought. I don't know anymore. He was kind. He was nice. You-"  
  
"Did exactly the same shit he did but openly," Puck stated matter-of-factly, and he could tell from the stunned look on Kurt's face that he'd caught the guy off-guard. "I ever do anything to you he didn't?" he asked, then added slyly, "Before the other night?"  
  
Kurt blushed and looked down, then appeared to be trying to think. He'd participated in the pee balloons, sure, but Finn had always been the one to try and help him retain what little dignity he had left. He'd held the coats and bags to keep them out of the trash. He'd told Puck to have impulse control and not slam him into the locker. But by the same token, Finn had also forced the slushie sepuku while Puck was bringing one to Rachel to actually drink. "He didn't nail my lawn furniture to my roof," Kurt concluded finally, but it didn't seem to have the same ringing endorsement he'd hoped for.  
  
"Only 'cause his mom made him do some dinner thing. He knew about it, helped me buy the ladder. Didn't stop me. He never stopped me. Never told anyone to lay off. And sure as hell didn't stand up for you - or anyone else. A good guy would step in, right? That's what all the fairytale crap you read says. He was just a wannabe. Didn't have the guts to be a badass, didn't have the guts to be a good guy, just stood there and let people think because he wasn't the ringleader he was somehow better than everyone else. Had you fooled, right?" Kurt's jaw clenched defiantly; he wasn't about to admit that. "At least with me, you know what you're getting. And I'm a stud," Puck said, arms folded confidently against his chest as he leaned back on the stool with an expression that seemed to say "go ahead, just try and prove me wrong." "Sam's the same way, but at least I can see what you'd see in him. Your cock would totally fit in that giant mouth of his." Kurt blushed nearly purple and his eyes bugged, and Puck smirked as he knew Kurt had thought about it.  
  
Kurt noticed one of the guys a few tables over staring at them. He knew that look - it was the look that scared Finn more than any other force at school. The 'Are you a homo now?' look. Because after all, being seen with him automatically meant-...He started to say he should leave, but before he could get a word out Puck shot the guy his own infamous glare - the one that made Jacob ben Israel run for cover and caused at least three guys to seek a transfer out of McKinley for fear of Puck's wrath. The guy quickly turned away.  
  
Puck, it would seem, was a badass even among badasses.  
  
"He ditched the club as soon as he thought he might catch shit. If he saw me slam some loser around, he wouldn't say a word."  
  
"He was willing to sing with me," Kurt protested.  
  
"When you told him why you were backing out, he challenge you? Try and keep you as a partner?" Puck asked. "He was willing to sing with you until he found out it'd be hard. Once he learned the social order, he went right back into hiding."  
  
"Thank you," Kurt replied tightly. Could a few more people call him toxic this week? Because really that was exactly what he needed.  
  
"What's your thing with them, anyway?"  
  
"Because everyone knows the bad boys never change," Kurt stated with a sad certainty. "They don't magically reform with the right makeover and they don't suddenly start treating the people they date with respect. Face it, Puck - at least if I could find some gay part of Sam-" Puck noticed Kurt didn't say Finn. Apparently that ship had sailed. "-he might be willing to be seen with me. You not only would refuse to hold my hand in the hallway, you would make out with Santana as publicly as possible and probably start throwing me around again to avoid the appearance of not hating me. As good as it was that night, the aftermath of doing it again wouldn't be worth it." He felt himself starting to get morose again and stood. He still had a few minutes to leave before he looked like a full-on sobfest in the middle of a room of felons who would probably love to pass him around for all kinds of decidedly un-hot fantasies.  
  
"Hey," Puck said as Kurt started to get up to leave. "I'll sing a duet with you. Or whatever."  
  
To say Kurt was surprised by the offer would be an understatement. "Really."  
  
"Yeah. Everyone else can suck it. But no showtunes - I hate that crap."  
  
"I assumed as much."  
  
"And it's gotta be by a Jewish artist. Gotta rep my peeps."  
  
Kurt managed to restrain his laughter at the use of the word 'peeps'; Jewish or not, Puck was even whiter and more suburban than he was and sounded slightly ridiculous. "I understand."  
  
"Cool."  
  
Kurt nodded and started towards the door, then turned back and offered, "I'll check on your sister. Make sure she has someone to stay with." An odd look passed over Puck's face, like he was trying to pretend it was no big deal but failing miserably. "I'm sure your mom has it taken care of, but-"  
  
"Thanks," Puck replied quickly. While he knew his mother was more than competent enough to figure out that Sarah needed somewhere to spend the night, he didn't totally love the idea of her hanging out by herself in the afternoons when he would normally be around after practice. Empty, quiet houses and whatever, and she was still little.  
  
"And I hope you're out of here soon," Kurt added quietly before pressing the button to be let out of the room. He walked quickly down the hall to collect his belongings and sign out and tried desperately to remind himself not to get his hopes up. After all, he remembered how Puck treated the girls he'd dated and, if he were going to be different, surely it would be in a bad way.


End file.
